


Plundered My Soul

by Duck_Life



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Angst, Drinking, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mojoworld, Mr. and Mrs. X (Comics), quark hasnt even been in a comic in like 5 years, the rarepair i will never let go of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 13:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18592390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duck_Life/pseuds/Duck_Life
Summary: Spiral got the missing part of her soul back, so she's completely okay now... right?





	Plundered My Soul

Spiral finds him at a biped bar on the outskirts of the Mojoverse. The place is pretty quiet. The single table of rebels panic and quickly vacate when they see her walk in. Even the bartender makes himself scarce. It’s no secret that she’s been Mojo’s right hand for… well, ages. Too long. 

Quark doesn’t run or look worried. He looks mildly amused and kind of resigned. “Of all the gin joints in the Mojoverse, she walks into mine,” he murmurs, setting his drink on the counter. “I don’t usually see you around here.”

“I don’t usually have days like this,” she says. It’s a strange feeling, being whole again. Like learning how to walk again. She opens her mouth, kind of hoping that all the knotted-up feelings in her chest will just come out on their own and she won’t actually have to put the work in, twisting them into words, into something with meaning. “Quark…” 

“Hey, whoa, what happened?” he says, brow wrinkling up. 

“I got… I got the missing part of my soul back.”

Quark doesn’t look any less confused. “Is that some kind of metaphor?”

“ _ No _ . No, I… it was missing. Stolen. Mojo took it,” she explains, stealing his drink out from under him and downing it in one gulp. It’s smooth, kind of sweet. “That’s why… that’s what made me…” She looks away, her gut churning with shame and embarrassment and anger and a couple of other things. The things she did, and the things that Mojo forced her to do, and whether there’s actually a line between them at all. “A part of me was missing, all this time. But it’s back now.”

“I… I never knew,” Quark says.

“Bullshit.” In one swift movement, Spiral vaults over the bar and starts pouring herself a new drink in Quark’s glass. “Bullshit, of course you knew. It was obvious to everyone wasn’t it?”

“No…”

“I had this… this gaping hole in me. I was  _ empty _ . I was  _ nothing _ ,” Spiral says, smiling a hard, manic grin as she mixes her drink. “But I’m better now. I’m fine now. I’m fine.” She starts to taste her drink, but then Quark speaks up.

“Did it hurt?”

She nearly chokes, laughing, sputtering on her drink. “Did  _ what _ hurt?” 

“Getting your soul back.” It sounds like a joke to Spiral. Quark isn’t smiling. “It can’t have been easy, being reunited with such a… delicate, fragile—”

“You know not a damn part of me is fragile,” she says, still smiling. “C’mon,  _ fekt _ , Quark, we’re celebrating. Have a drink.” She mixes him something, ignores the fact that some of it sloshes over her shaking hands as she stirs in the liquor. “Here,” she says, passing it over.

“Spiral—”

“Drink, damn you.” Quark grabs the glass from her and takes a swig, wincing at whatever it is. “Look at me! I’m practically glowing!” She does a full spin. “Got a brand-new soul and a cross of gold. I feel great. I feel better than I’ve felt since… since…” His eyes flash, and she knows he’s also thinking of the early days— Longshot’s rebellion, back when she only had two arms, back when she hadn’t torn apart the lives of countless of Mojo’s victims, back when… “I’ve never felt so good,” Spiral declares. “I feel better than I’ve ever felt.” 

Quark sips his drink. Spiral finishes hers and starts making a third, her hands zigging and zagging haphazardly, reaching for bottles and dispensers and a lemon wedge and a couple of ice cubes. 

“... Rita—”

_ Smash _ . The bottle of rum drops to the floor and shatters, glass shards flying everywhere. Spiral freezes completely, still holding a wedge of lemon in one hand. Quark looks apologetic—  _ as he should _ , she thinks. “Now look what you made me do,” she mumbles. Her face feels hot. Something burns in her throat and in her chest. 

“It’s okay,” Quark says, like he’s trying to calm a wild animal. “Here, I’ll… I’ll help you clean it up.”

“It’s  _ fine _ ,” she insists, broken glass crunching beneath her boot. “It’s fine, I’m fine. Just…” Just what? Getting the rest of her soul back was always the plan, and she never really planned for after. 

Quark says, softly, “I’m happy for you.” 

And that’s what fucking does it, that’s what lets loose the dam, and suddenly she’s clinging to the edge of the bar just to keep from falling down, and she’s  _ crying _ , actually goddamn crying like she’s a child or a widow or something. She’s crying, like she hasn’t done in years, and Quark is holding her hands and mumbling bullshit about how he’s sorry and everything’s going to be okay. 

“I…” she shudders, leaning over the bar, her forehead pressed against his. “I’ve been a fucking monster, Q.” 

“Who isn’t?”

“I thought… I thought it was all because of what that bastard took away from me,” she admits, miserable as she lays herself bare, “I thought it would all be better once I… once I got all of me  _ back _ . But… but, God, what if this is just me? What if it’s just who I am, and the only thing missing was how I  _ felt _ about it? I mean, I always knew I was awful, kind of, but I thought I could at least  _ blame it _ on something and now I’m whole again and I still feel…” 

“Shh,” he whispers, a steady presence as her shoulders shake. With anyone else, this would be utterly humiliating. With Quark, it’s oddly familiar. They’ve fought on every side— against Mojo, for Mojo, against each other. They know the myth of revolution, the power of the status quo, the tenuity of agency. They know better than anyone that if there’s still enough left in you to be angry, you’re doing alright. 

“At least I’m not empty anymore,” Spiral says dully. 

“You never were,” he says back. 


End file.
